


An Arrangement of Sorts

by TwerkwoodForest



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Self Insert, aranged marriage, hux being a cutie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 10:55:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10385061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwerkwoodForest/pseuds/TwerkwoodForest
Summary: You are the daughter of a wealthy politician in the First Order and your father has arranged a marriage between you and General Hux. The catch is, neither you nor Hux really want it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yo. After much consideration I have signed up for A03. I wrote and published a bunch of stuff to my trash Tumblr (imnottrashimrecyclyng) and decided to post them here as well. Enjoy!

You faked your sweetest smile and linked arms with your father before entering the ballroom. Today was the day you were getting married. All you knew of your betrothed was that he was a terrifyingly powerful general for the First Order and that somehow your union would benefit The Order. You had only spoken once. As he was arriving for the affair you had been out in the front garden trying to spruce things up. He had come several hours early and you were a complete mess. Your hair had been thrown up in a hat and you wore dirty pants and a tunic, both the pants and sleeves rolled up due to the heat of the sun. The general approached you and informed you he was supposed to meet with the lord of the house. He took a curious glace down at your lack of footwear and followed your directions to your father’s study. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to realize that the dirt caked woman in the garden was his betrothed and paid no attention.

You really appreciated your father’s choice of husband though, figuring it could be much worse. At least this man was only five or six years your senior. One of your childhood friends had recently been wed to an officer nearly twice her age. As you approached the alter, you took in the man you would be spending the rest of your life with. His hair gleamed in the sunlight that shone through the windows. You noticed him looking you over with his jaw dropped ever so slightly in surprise. The ceremony went smoothly and you were so in awe over how gentle his voice had become. It was a stark contrast to the holos you had seen of his speeches. 

After you had taken your vows, there was a large celebration in honor of the occasion. The two of you were placed at an elevated table alongside your families. Neither of you spoke much but met eyes a few times. You both were nervous and dreading what was to come that night. At one point while both of your fathers were giving a toast, he placed a reassuring hand on your knee and offered a small smile. As per tradition, you were required to perform the first dance of the evening. You were once again in awe. This time over how fluid his dancing was. You felt horridly clumsy in comparison despite taking lessons since you were a child. 

As the night came to a close, a large group of guests had swept you out of the ballroom and to the quarters made up for the occasion. The general looked tense as you were pushed into the room. The heavy doors swung shut and there was a loud clanking sound as all the locks were put in place. 

“Well,” he said sheepishly, gesturing to the bed. You picked up the thin night dress that had been laid out and went to the ‘fresher to change. You came out to find him still clothed in his dress uniform, boots and all, sitting on the bed reading something on his datapad. “I’m sorry.” He said, setting down the device. “Did you still want to…” he trailed off implying what neither of you wanted.

You shook your head. “If you want to I will. It is tradition after all.” 

“You look lovely, but no thank you.” He replied. “I barely even know you.” He internally rejoiced the fact that you had no interest in sex that night either. The only stimulation he had ever had was from the occasional stroke of his own hand and he had no idea how to go about pleasuring a woman.

“Do you mind if I wash my makeup off then?” you questioned. You didn’t want to upset him any in case he didn't want to see your imperfections and ruin the illusion of a gorgeous bride.

He shook his head no. “It’s not your face, not mine.”  
While you were back in the refresher he searched for sleep clothes to change into. They must have assumed he would want to sleep naked because he had no such luck. He removed his jacket, dress shirt and boots and carefully laid them on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. You returned to find him once again focused on the datapad and still half dressed. He still wore an undershirt and his trousers. He caught you staring and glanced up, “What?” he asked, “There’s nothing else and I’m not going to sleep naked.”

He flushed as you let out a genuine laugh. “It can’t be comfortable to sleep in those pants though!”

“Are you okay if I don’t?” he questioned. The last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uncomfortable, even if it meant sacrificing his own comfort.

“They’re your legs, not mine.” You threw his own idea back at him which caused him to smirk.

Much to your surprise, he smiled and tugged the stiff pants on and left them with the rest of his uniform. Only dressed in a t-shirt and drab First Order regulation underwear he shoved back the blankets and laid down. You laid down on the other side of the bed and let out a quiet sigh of relief when he didn’t make a move towards you.

“You can call me Armitage by the way.” He said just when you thought he was asleep. Your new husband turned to face you. “What do you go by?”

You responded and he kept talking. He asked about your life, your interests, your ambitions. “So that was you the other day!” he exclaimed when you mentioned your love of gardening. His hand gently brushed the patch of pinkish, sun burned skin on your cheeks. He was quite intrigued by the fact that you weren’t afraid to get your hands dirty. He figured you must at least help with upkeep of the estate since he hadn’t seen any workers apart from the cooks hired for the occasion. So his new wife wasn’t just another prissy woman from high society. Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad after all, especially since life on the Finalizer wasn’t exactly glamorous.

The two of you stayed up until the early hours of the morning chatting before you let out a big yawn. “We should get some sleep.” He said. He drew your hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss on your knuckles. “Good night” he whispered and turned away.

A smile crept across your face. So your new husband was actually human and not some robotic puppet of The Order. Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> One final thought: WHY THE HECK DOES THIS THING NOT DO PARAGRAPH INDENTATION??!! Thanks for reading! :)


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